The Irish standard., 1887-08-13

wretches who had been deprived {
their patches of ground, but still clun
the Lord nows now-to the mountai
side.'
She's after disturbing that poor dJ
ing woman now.' Father O'Gorma
was turning up the by-road, when b
pulled up his horse suddenly.
| Gould you manage to give a fe,
days work to Mick Dunphys' said he
His wife is dying and his childrel
starving, and he says himself, he didn'
get stroke of work these six weeks
Il can give him work for the winter,
said Brian, 'as am just about com
menc;ng some draining
That's good news for poor Mick an,
for the poor woman, too;' and Fathe
O'Gorman was about putting spurs t.
his horse to hurry with it to them, whel
be stopped again.
Come up YOURSELF said he, and hir'
him at once. Twill cheer the poor fel
lows heart
They reached Mick Dunphy's miser.
able cabin, and found four famishin1
children watching a pot which thei]
father had just placed over few EN-
bers on the hearth. The man was OF
his knees, trying, with his breath, tt
kindle the screws He stood up an6
bade his visitors welcome. They heart
a weak voice ask:
rs that Father Paul?'
1T is, Kitty, his reverence and Mr.
PURCELL
Come here Mick, and stan near me-
She was Obliged to gasp for Dreatl
after every word.
Father Paul, said she, I'm going tc
ask dyin request OF the husband that
never gave nae hard word OF BLACK
look since the first day met him, an
know he won't refuse it,
What is it, Kitty said her husband
stopping low over her.
Mick Dunphy,'-r Using herself upor
her elbow, she spoke in a firm voice
that surprised them all--tI want you tt
promise me, in the presence of The
priest Of God, that you'll never let ;
ch1ld,of mine into the poor house.
Never he exclaimed in husk,
voice, *as God is above me. Let ZEN
die first.
She fell back upon her bed, with Z;
languid smile upon her face, and hold
ing her husbands hand, she said: 'fI'i
die aisy now Mick. I was afeard yo'
WOE losing llenrt.
Sure, here is MIR. Purcell, said Faith
er O'Gorman, who will give Mick worl
for the winter
Yes said Brian, seeing that poo
Mick thought Che priest had invented ;
little fiction to ease bis wite's mind.
fYou may go to work tomorrow, i
YOU choose
God is good!' exclaimed the dying
woman, as feryentIy as if q miracle hat
been wrought in her behalf.
AT this moment who should step int
the cabin bus Mrs. Hazlitt. She laid {
little white bag on the floor, and tucked
up the skirt of her gown. What
this?' says she, going to the pst On th'
fire, into which the children were anxi
ously peering. Oh Lord! O Lord!
Here Mrs. Hazitt took up the pot, car
riea it outside The door, and flung TIN
contents-a few turnip tops and cab
bage stumps-into the dung heap. Com
ing back. she placed the pot on the irs
again, poured some, clean water into it
and opened the bag.
Now, says she. nodding her head a
the children, now for a good big pot o
stirabout.' There was not q face there
not even excepting the paiiid face or
the miserable bed, but was lighted VI
with q smile, as Mrs. Hazlitt proceeded
with the stirabout making.
% Lord! Pm in for ill., exclaimed
Mrs. Fl zlitt. sWhat'}l I do?' ShE
looked about her as it she wished to hide
herself somewhere. She then seized tbt
bag, apparently with the intention O
throwing it under the bed, but befor,
she could do 80, Matt Harlitt walked il
the door with his back stopped, and hi'
two hands under his coat tails. HI
appeared considerably confused wheI
recognized Father O German aud Bria1
Purcell through the smoke. But whe1
his eyes rested upon his wife, Mat
Hazlitt started bolt upright with jerk
and down fell something soft but heav,
from under his coat tails Brian at one,
recognized the bundle which Mat
dropped out the back window among
the lanrels. Mrs Hazlitt pouDced ON i
Immediately. .....
(To be Continued.)